


So Jump and I'm Jumping

by ShiloBarns



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Prison, Chicago (City), College Student Eren, Gang Violence, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prison Violence, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Undercover Cop Levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27466231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiloBarns/pseuds/ShiloBarns
Summary: The Chicago news these days is packed with gang violence. They tell you not to be out on the streets after dark, avoid certain parts of the city, and keep your head low. The crime rates are a joke, and no one is safe. Precincts are understaffed and underfunded, the jails are overrun, and the gangs have a place in it all.This wouldn’t be anything like the movies, they’d at least told him that much------------------------Eren is a college student, cheated by the justice system and sent to one of the most dangerous prisons in Chicago.Levi is an undercover cop who wants to finally rid the city of the Titan's corruption.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	1. Edifice

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Achilles Come Down](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_V76Dm42bY) by Gang of Youths.

The lawyers on TV were always so sure of themselves. The odds would be stacked against them, but just when it all looked hopeless, they’d pull miracles out of their asses on the way to court and act like they’d won a hard-fought war. They’d run through the halls, desperate to make the deadline. The defense lawyer would get the good news and interrupt the proceedings to pull the ace out of their pocket and flash it to the judge. 

The prosecution would be left gasping, and the jury would nod along with the impassioned bullshit spewing from the defense’s mouth. Then, it’d be justice served. The prosecution would have to rest, the villain of the story finally vanquished, and everyone would go home happy. The accused sighing in relief, and their family jumping up to celebrate behind them. 

Such utter bullshit. The movies and the TV were all wrong. There is no justice served. The system was weak and collapsing, and bad people get off scot free, while the blame is forced on the innocent. The wrong people, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

The innocent weren’t so easily protected in the real world. Out here, the bad guys go free. The judges turn blind eyes with just the right push or stack of bills, and as another guy goes free, another gang grows just a little bigger, a little stronger. 

The Chicago news these days is packed with gang violence. They tell you not to be out on the streets after dark, avoid certain parts of the city, and keep your head low. The kids that dropped out of school now appeared on the news more often than not. Sometimes alive, sometimes not. The teachers would all say ‘I told you he was a bad one,’ or ‘It was those parents of his.’ They had all become desensitized to it. It was just another sad story in the crawl at the bottom of the screen. 

Not to mention the cops, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The crime rates are a joke. No one is safe. Precincts are understaffed and underfunded. More good cops were going down every day, leaving the corrupt to take over and infect like a deadly plague. The jails are overrun with just as much corruption, and the gangs had their necrotic roots in it all. 

This wouldn’t be anything like the movies, they’d at least told him that much

* * *

Eren looked up from his hands. The hands resting on the old suit his mom had dragged out from the closet and pressed for him yesterday. He had watched her do it. Had watched her dig through the back of the storage space under the stairs to find his dad’s old brown polyester suit. She had carefully ironed each piece before laying it out on his desk chair for that morning. 

She hadn’t said a word the entire time he had watched her, even after he had offered to do it instead. She’d just shaken her head and gotten back to ironing. Eren regrets not pushing to do it harder. He’d felt even more guilty when he’d walked by her room and heard her quiet crying. He couldn't imagine how his mom felt about all of this. 

Well, if she felt the way he did, he did know. He was ashamed for putting her through this, and so, so guilty. She didn’t deserve to suffer for his rash decisions. She deserved better, better than he could ever be. 

His lawyer stands next to him and says something to the judge. Something about his clean record, outstanding grades and citizenship marks. It doesn’t matter. The prosecution has the hard evidence. He’ll be found guilty for sure, it’s just a matter of getting the easiest plea possible. 

His lawyer sits back down, “Just a little longer Eren.”

Eren doesn’t say anything. He looks back down at his hands, now fisted in the itchy material of his pant legs. His mom would be upset he’d wrinkled them. Eren tries his best to smooth the creases back out, but it’s a lost cause. 

He knows he should be watching the trial, his trial. He should be looking the judge in the eye or whatever, making himself seem less guilty. He should be acting like the ‘kind and conscientious student’ his lawyer had made him out to be. Someone who had just been overcome in a wave of passion. We’re all susceptible to our emotions aren’t we?

Eren kinda feels bad for his lawyer. The middle aged, balding man in a drab grey suit had tried hard to connect with Eren. He’d spent several uncomfortable sessions in the man’s office listening to him talk about how he’d gotten into several ‘tussles’ in highschool, so he sympathized with Eren’s situation. Judging by the numerous photos of his wife and their nuclear family scattered around the room, Eren severely doubted that. 

The judge bangs his gavel as the prosecuting lawyer sits down. Eren doesn’t realize the room has cleared until his lawyer snaps his briefcase shut on the table in front of him. 

“We’ve broken for the judge’s deliberations, it’ll be a bit till they call us back in.”

“Oh.” Eren fiddles with his hands. 

The lawyer sighs, “Look kid, don’t worry about it too much. It’s a simple assault at most, and you’re a good kid with no priors. They always go easy on the good ones.” He walks away. 

Eren doesn’t even remember his name. He looks around the room, eyes darting from the empty jury boxes to his left, to the raised podiums in front, and finally to the empty table to his right. He hasn’t been able to look over there at all this entire time. Eren’s afraid that if he catches even a glimpse, he’ll end up repeating the actions that got him here in the first place. 

Eren stands and walks swiftly out of the courtroom. He pushes through the double doors and swings a left to an abandoned hallway. He wanders for a bit before sitting down on a wooden bench facing floor to ceiling glass windows that look out onto a courtyard. 

A hummingbird flits past the window and settles on a bright purple russian sage plant. Eren tries to focus on its wings, but they beat at a frequency he knows can’t be easily perceived by the human eye. He tries anyway. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes as he watches the birds fly in and out of the sorry excuse for a garden. A few sage plants, some perennials, and what looks like a dying cherry tree. _How fitting_ he thinks. 

It’s late April, the cherry tree should be blooming, yet there it sits. Eren thinks it’s probably the shade, too much water, or root rot. Probably all three. He doesn’t expect it to live much longer. 

Eren feels a sudden wave of sadness wash over him. It could have been beautiful, but someone had just planted it and left it there. They hadn’t even considered its needs. No one in their right mind would plant a cherry tree there, half covered by the overhang on the side of the courthouse. 

Eren looks back to the sage bush. The hummingbird is gone. He sighs, and slips his phone out of his pocket. He’d been at the courthouse since 7am, it's 10am now. Eren hadn’t checked what time it’d been when he had sat down. 

The clap of cheap shoes on the linoleum floors tells Eren it's his lawyer. The man ambles down the corridor, eyes locked on his outdated dinosaur of a flip phone until he stops in front of Eren.

“Hey kid. The judge has called us back in for sentencing.”

Right, sentencing, because they already know he’s guilty. Eren hates it when he calls him kid. 

He nods and stands from the bench, shooting one last, longing look towards the wilting tree and follows his lawyer back to the courtroom. 

The judge enters from the little side door and sits down behind his podium. Eren’s lawyer gestures to him as the judge asks for both parties to stand. Eren sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and digs his nails into his clenched fists to stop him from looking over. 

The judge clears his throat, “In the case of Eren Yaeger, the court finds the defendant guilty of assault and battery, and is hereby sentenced to 30 days in county jail, and six months probation.”

Eren’s head shoots up. Assault and battery. They had only discussed the possibility of the assault charge. Before his lawyer can speak up, the judge raises his hand and continues. 

“With good behavior, the defendant’s record will be sealed after the full sentence is completed. That is all, court is dismissed.” The bang of the gavel rings final throughout the room. 

The lawyer turns to Eren as people file out of the room, “Tough break kid. Listen, because you’re not a flight risk, they’ll set a report date, a scheduled time for you to turn yourself over, within the next few days. I’ll make sure the paperwork and my court fees get to your mom. Good luck.” And with that, the lawyer leaves. 

Eren’s not a kid. He checks the time, 10:30am. His mom wouldn’t be coming home from work until 5 that night. Even then, she’d only be back for a few hours before starting the overnight cleaning shift at the hotel. Great. 

He takes one last look around the room before walking back out through the double doors once again. Eren walks through the lobby, dodging the lawyers rushing to and fro. Men and women, stuffed into dusty suits and tight skirts, their dress shoes and heels clacking on the linoleum. 

The doors push back against the wind as Eren forces them open. The nearest bus stop is only a block away, but he knows the next one won’t be by for at least another 15 minutes. Eren turns left, and follows the path around the corner. 

He’s on the other side of the windows now. The cherry tree stands fully in front of him. Now up close, he can see the browning leaves and the moisture pooling in the dirt around the base of the trunk. Definitely root rot. 

Eren looks up and catches a flash of pink nestled between some leaves. He reaches forward and moves them aside. The decaying leaf detaches and flutters to the ground in front of him. 

A cherry blossom stares back at him. It’s smaller than normal ones, but just as vibrant, even more so against the backdrop of the drooping tree. The blossom has defied all odds, it shouldn't be there, but it is. It’s survived despite everything, and bloomed in a place undeserving of its beauty, but still it lives. Eren feels a little lighter. 

The wind brushes through his hair as he turns back the way he came. Eren makes his way down the sidewalk and walks the block to the bus stop. He only needs to wait a few minutes before the ugly red and white CTA bus comes into view down the street. 

Eren boards the moderately empty bus and swipes the card in the payment system, nodding to the bored bus driver. He makes his way down the aisle and snatches a seat towards the middle next to the window. 

The doors close and the bus pulls away from the curb and into traffic. Eren leans his head against the window and watches downtown Chicago blur past.

* * *

The letter from the corrections department comes in the mail the morning after court, and three days later, Eren steps through a pair of heavy doors into a surprisingly busy lobby. The letter had told him to go to the jail lobby, but as far as he can see, there are no signs that indicate a direction. There’s not much of anything besides people. 

A narrow entryway opens into a space dominated by the desk in the center of the room. A bored receptionist clacks away at her keys, and every so often calls out a ‘next,’ and the line in front of her shuffles forward. 

There are a few chairs scattered around, like a makeshift waiting area. Eren cringes, he can see the mystery stains from where he still stands by the door. The walls don’t look like they’ve fared any better either. 

To Eren’s left is a wall of what looks like mailboxes, they could be lockers too. The back of the room has two doors on either side of the receptionist’s desk, and some awfully dry looking potted plants. 

Eren’s bumped forwards as someone enters from behind him, “Sorry.” The stranger doesn’t even acknowledge him. Eren watches as he makes his way through the doorway to the left of the receptionist. _I wonder if he’s a cop_ Eren thinks. 

Eren checks his watch, 7:48am. He’d made surprisingly good time considering the usual morning rush on the blue line. He should probably ask the receptionist where he’s supposed to go. He really doesn’t want to wander around this place anymore than he has to. 

Eren steps into the line with only a few people in front of him, an older gentleman with a wrinkled grey flat cap, a bored looking businessman, and a young woman who really isn’t dressed appropriately for a visit to a police department, or the chilly Chicago weather. 

She’s significantly shorter than Eren, even with the tall heels she stands on. The leather miniskirt definitely toes the line of indecent, but Eren can’t see what kind of shirt she’s wearing due to the leather jacket that looks a few sizes too big. 

Her blonde hair is swept up into a bun, with loose bangs framing her face that float around as she steps forward in line. Eren watches the old man shuffle past and grunt as he pushes through the heavy doors of the police station. 

The business man now at the counter switches between the conversation on his phone and the questions asked by the bored receptionist. Eren hates these people. The people who don’t have common courtesies, just because they think their job or money makes them better than someone else.

They’re the ones that shout to hold the doors on elevators, but don’t say thank you. The ones who walk in the middle of the sidewalk, expecting everyone else to part around them, because don’t they see his expensive watch and his expensive suit, and see he’s important? 

Eren didn’t have a lot growing up, he still doesn’t. The only way he’s been able to afford to go to college is the scholarships he had been able to rack up in highschool. What money he and his mom do have goes towards their rent and utility bills. 

The businessman turns with a huff and stalks out of the station, visibly ruffled. _Good_ , Eren thinks. People like that need someone to push back every once in a while, before their head gets so big they can’t fit through doorways. 

The girl in front of Eren walks forward and leans on the receptionist’s desk, he can barely make out what she’s saying. Something about someone being released today. Before the receptionist answers, a gruff looking man enters the room from one of the doors behind the desk. He looks to be a few years older than Eren, but significantly taller with blonde hair, and a sizable beard. 

The woman leaves the desk and slinks over to the new arrival who throws an arm over her shoulder. Eren turns back to the receptionist who’s looking up at him expectantly. He stumbles forwards and asks, “I’m looking for the, uh,” he looks back at the papers in his hand, “the jail lobby?” The last part comes out more like a question than Eren intends it to. 

The receptionist raises a brow and nods towards the right side of the room. A partition had obscured Eren’s view from the hallway the receptionist was nodding towards. The heat rises in Eren’s face as he plainly sees the sign that says ‘Jail Lobby.’ He looks back at the receptionist with a slight grimace, “Thanks.”

Eren awkwardly steps out of the line and heads towards the hallway. He looks back at the blonde girl to find her making her way out of the door, still arm in arm with the blonde guy. Eren turns back and follows the hallway to another set of glass doors. 

He pushes through them and makes his way to the window in the wall that serves as reception. At least this woman looks more inclined to be here. She gives Eren a friendly librarian vibe. 

The receptionist looks up as he approaches and gives him a small smile, “Hello, how can I help you?”

Eren sets a small stack of papers and a plastic baggie on the ledge, “I’m here to report for a sentence.” 

“Sure thing hun,” She looks back down at her computer, “name?”

“Eren Yeager, Y-e-a-g-e-r.”

She presses a few keys and clicks around before looking back up, “Okay, do you have your court documents and your ID?”

Eren nods and slides the piece of paper that came with his letter under the glass partition along with his driver’s license. She scoops them out of the tray and looks them over before typing something on her keyboard. The receptionist looks at his ID, clicks around, and types something again before sliding it back to Eren, “Alrighty, I will get an officer to come collect you and get you started on the intake process.”

Eren nods and collects his ID and the baggie with his prescriptions. He stands off to the side as the receptionist makes a phone call too quiet for him to hear. She hangs up and only a few minutes later, an officer pushes through a set of doors across the room from where Eren is standing. 

The receptionist nods to the officer, passes him a clipboard, and gestures towards Eren. The officer scratches something onto the clipboard as he makes his way over, “Good morning, I’m Officer Jinn, follow me please.” Officer Jinn leads Eren through a different set of doors and into what looks like a bullpen. 

There are desks spaced out into clumps throughout the room with officers milling about or sitting at their desks, and several officers standing in the conjoined kitchen area. In the back of the room is a partially occupied holding cell outfitted with some benches. Eren sees the opening of a hallway to the left of the holding cell but can’t see where it leads to. 

Officer Jinn leads Eren into a room with a desk off to the side and gestures for him to sit in the chair conveniently placed next to the table. He boots up the computer and turns to Eren, “Okay, so it says here you’re reporting for your sentencing.” 

Eren nods and the officer continues, “Alrighty, I’m going to ask you a series of questions to verify identity, and then ask about your medical history. After that, I will ask you to take off your shoes, and place all personal belongings into this baggie.” The officer reaches into a drawer and sets aforementioned bag on the desk in front of Eren. 

“Okay let's get started. Name?”

“Eren Yeager.”

“Date of Birth?”

“March, 30th, 1992.”

“Address?”

“1316 West Caroll Ave, Apartment 4C.”

“Mother’s maiden name?”

“Carla Yeager.”

The officer falls silent as he inputs the last answer into the computer, “Okay, everything looks good, I’ll move onto medical history.” He clicks around some more and looks back up at Eren, 

“Any prescription drugs you’ll need during your sentence?”

Eren looks at the plastic bag in his hands. The bag crinkles and the pills rattle around as he sheepishly slides them onto Officer Jinn’s desk. The officer raises an eyebrow, and when Eren doesn’t move or say anything, reaches into a drawer and pulls out some pieces of paper. “Fill those out, a copy will stay here to be put in the system, and the other will go with you to the Department of Corrections.”

Eren reaches for the forms but stills as the last words leave Officer Jinn’s mouth. He looks up wide eyed, “You mean the Cook County Department of Corrections?”

“Yes.”

Eren feels like ice water has been poured down his back, “My paperwork said I was only supposed to go to a transition center.”

The officer pushes the forms towards Eren again, “Stuff like this happens sometimes. They get overbooked so some prisoners have to be transferred last minute.”

Eren feels numb as he stares down at the desk. He’s heard stories about what goes on in the Department of Corrections. It’s where the really bad people go; the drug dealers, gang members, and murderers. Eren definitely doesn’t belong there. He doesn’t know how he’s going to come out of this one alive. He’s starting to regret throwing that first punch. 

A gentle tap on the desk snaps Eren back into focus, “Listen kid, you’ll be fine. They keep the really bad guys separate from the general pop. Besides, it’s only a month anyways.” Officer Jinn turns back to his computer. Eren looks down at the prescription medication form mocking him from the desk. He hates being called kid.

* * *

An hour, another slew of personal questions, and one mildly invasive body search later, Eren is placed into a holding cell for transport. The walls are grimy and the floor sticks to Eren’s shoes as he walks to an unoccupied bench under a foggy glass window. The benches appear to fare only slightly better than the rest of the room, but he still cringes as he sits. 

There are only a few other people in the cell. A raggedy, heavily bearded man slumps in a corner on the floor. His clothes are filthy and full of numerous rips and holes. Eren thinks he’s probably a poor homeless person the cops ripped off the street just to fill their quota for the month. 

Leaning on the bars is a mexican man with a goatee. His arms from the elbow down stick out of the holding cell and gesture wildly as he shouts in spanish at every person who passes by.

The last person in the cell is a kid who can’t be much older than Eren. He sits on a bench placed against the wall to the right of where Eren sits. Eren can only see the side of his face in the dim light of the cell, but he can make out the boy’s long face and close cropped black hair. He can also make out the start of a tattoo peeking out of the collar of his dingy white shirt. 

The boy shifts in his seat, causing the shirt to drop lower, and more of the tattoo becomes visible. Eren stares in shock at the nine pointed starburst etched into the boy’s neck. Eren’s seen that symbol on the news accompanied by the announcement of another shooting or murder. He’s also seen it spray painted onto the dingy buildings and crack houses in the South side. It’s the symbol of one of Chicago’s most notorious gangs, the Titans. 

They ran almost the entirety of the lower Southside of Chicago. Just this year, they had started to creep north, and expanded into the edges of Western Chicago. Everyone knew to steer clear of anything south of Englewood and Washington park, especially when it got dark. 

Eren has heard his fair share of stories about how the gangs ran drugs and weapons up from Mexico through the cartels. He’s seen the seedy guys standing on street corners and in alleyways whenever he’d been forced to pass through the southside communities. He’d heard of the seemingly random murders and attacks on civilians spun on the news as ‘wrong place at the wrong time’ that everyone really knew were gang initiations. 

And now Eren knows for sure that he’s going to be locked up with at least one of them. That Officer Jinn really has no idea what he’s talking about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated!


	2. Menagerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've already read the original first chapter, go ahead to skip to ch3 to start the new update. I decided to split the original first chapter into two to keep the kind of consistent chapter lengths. 
> 
> Brief warning for this chapter: There's some public humiliation during Eren's intake process in the prison, so if you're sensitive to that skip from 'Eren hesitantly places the bag on the bench in front of him and shrugs off his jacket.' to 'Eren hastily grabs the mass of orange material and riffles through it.'

Eren spends the entirety of the rest of his time in the holding cell staring at the floor. He doesn’t know how much time passes before another officer announces the transport bus has arrived. 

Each prisoner is shackled around their wrists and ankles in a line. Eren ends up behind the Titan and in front of the homeless guy who was the last to get up off the floor. 

The officer shuffles them out of the holding cell and into a long hallway. Guards are posted sporadically down the hallway leading to a blue set of double doors. The only sounds are the murmurs coming from the guy with the goatee and the clinking of the chains. 

They reach the end of the hall where the doors open into the bright midday sun. Eren has to squint against the harsh light, forgetting about the shackles when he tries to bring a hand up to shade his eyes. 

A small, dark grey, rickety prison bus sits in the middle of a gated parking lot. It's obviously seen better days. The paint on the side is scratched, and Eren’s pretty sure the painted bars over the windows are supposed to be white. 

Each inmate is disconnected from the group as they step onto the bus and then are pushed through the opening of the cage that separates the inmate seats from the driver and the guards. Eren’s really glad he’s not going to be forced to sit next to the Titan. He’d take the hobo anyday. Eren scoots into a seat near the front of the bus and looks out the window. 

The officers waiting in the parking lot file back into the building as the remaining guards step onto the bus. They all immediately sit down in the seats at the front except for one, who shuts and locks the door of the cage. 

The bus lurches forwards and starts to roll towards the gate at the end of the lot. There’s a short pause as the guards open the gate, but then the bus pulls out onto the busy Chicago streets. Even though they’re a ways away from downtown, it still takes a considerable amount of time for the bus to make its way onto one of the major streets. 

Eren watches the apartment buildings and vacant lots speed past, and gets a sense of Deja vu. He’d watched Chicago speed past the exact same way after the court house. 

His mom had been crying when he stepped through the door into their apartment. She’d hurriedly wiped her eyes and smiled at him as he’d walked through the door, but he could still see the drying tear tracks cutting down her cheeks. She’d been crying a lot lately.

Then, she had asked how the sentencing had gone. Eren had to tell his mother that her only son was going to be a convicted felon, at least until his sentence and parole were completed. She had tried to keep the smile, but Eren could see it wobble. She had hugged him at first, but had broken down as soon as he returned her embrace. 

Eren still hasn't fully accepted the gravity of his situation yet. He’d forced himself to be strong for his mother’s sake those last three days, and he knows it’ll bite him in the ass later on. 

Barely forty minutes had passed before Eren could glimpse the sporadic guard towers, barbed wire fences, and brick buildings of the Cook County Department of Corrections. The bus rounds a few corners before pulling up to a gate on the West side of the compound. 

The bus driver converses with the guard at the gate briefly before a buzzing fills the air. The gate slides back and the bus pulls through and up to a second gate. The doors open and a new pair of guards step on. They look around the bus and talk to the guards at the front. After a few minutes, one of them gets off the bus, and the second gate opens.

Eren watches as the bus pulls through the second barbed wire gate and onto a road flanked on either side by four story brick buildings. The bus passes some basketball courts and then takes a right and follows a curved road until it stops in front of four interconnected two-story buildings. The plaque on the side of the reads Division VI. 

The guards get up from the tired leather seats and line the walkway to the barred double doors of the red brick building. The door between the seats is unlocked and the inmates are shackled back together as they step off the bus. 

Eren shivers and looks at the sky as he steps down. It can’t be any later than three by now, but he still shivers in the chilly Chicago air. The guards pull them into the building and through a lobby. 

There’s a barred guard station directly ahead, and locked double doors to either side. The walls are whitewashed, same as the linoleum floors. There are no chairs or half dying potted plants in this lobby. 

Eren stumbles as he’s pulled along with the others to the set of double doors to the left. The guard at the station buzzes them through, and they’re pulled in front of another set of doors. Eren guesses that every entrance in this place has two separate sets of doors to be buzzed through, like the gate they had come in through on the bus. 

The second door buzzes open with a nod from the guard in the booth, and Eren and the others are pulled through into another hallway. They are led down the hall and through another set of doors until they’re finally pushed into a big room, not unlike the holding cell at the sheriff’s office. 

Eren and his traveling companions aren’t the only ones in the room. There are men scattered on benches around the room, and armed guards by all the exits. A gruff looking police officer stands by the door and says, “This is the start of intake, when your name is called stand and you’ll be processed accordingly.” That’s all he says before he leaves and shuts the door behind him. 

Eren takes stock of his options. There are four rows of benches spanning the room, the farthest row sits against a wall with three barred windows placed too high for anyone of average height to be able to look out of. 

He could try and make his way to the back row, but he’s still shackled by his ankles and wrists. He really doesn’t want to draw that much attention to himself. Belatedly, he realizes he’s already drawing attention just by standing in the middle of the walkway next to the door. 

Eren looks around the room for a nearby empty bench, but freezes. The Titan is actively staring straight at him. He’s sitting against the wall with one foot on the bench and the other stretched out in front of him. The Titan narrows his eyes almost like he’s trying to place a familiar face in a crowd even though Eren knows for sure they’ve never seen each other before. 

_Yeah okay, definitely not sitting over there_. Eren looks around and settles on a bench in the first row, as far away from the gang member as possible. His shackles clink together as he sits down next to the spanish speaking man who was on the transport with him. 

Dust motes dance through the stale air in the light filtering in from the grimy windows. The room is silent except for the occasional cough and shuffle. There are about fifteen other men not including the three Eren just walked in with. 

Eren sits at the end of the first row of benches, facing towards the middle of the room. To his right is a barred counter set into the wall with a guard shuffling paperwork and calling out names every so often. Besides the benches, the room is completely empty. 

The people around Eren don’t look at each other or talk. Everyone keeps their head down and waits for the guard in the wall to call out their name. When this happens, they jerk up and shuffle towards the only other door in the room where it buzzes open and they step through. 

Eren watches the shadows stretch across the walls as he waits. He sits and stares at the wall as people shuffle around him. A few people will leave, then a few more will be led in by the guard at the door, and given the same spiel Eren was. They’ll look around awkwardly before choosing the nearest empty seat and waiting. 

“Bertolt Hoover.”

Eren tunes into that name as the Titan gets up from the bench and shuffles to the door. He’s absolutely sure he’s never heard that name before, so there’s no way that Titan could have recognized him from somewhere. He slouches back and breathes a sigh of relief, maybe that guy was just trying to intimidate him. 

“Eren Yaeger.”

Eren was not expecting to be called so quickly after the last person. He stands hesitantly and shuffles down the row until he reaches the door. A faint buzzing sounds, and it slides open to reveal a short hallway opening up to another room. 

A guard armed with a baton stands next to a table, and another just past the opening into the room. The guard at the table motions at Eren with his baton, “Remove your shoes, and place your hands flat on the table with your feet spread shoulder width apart.”

Eren steps hesitantly into the room, cowering slightly under the gaze of the armed guards as he passes. “C’mon kid, we don’t have all day.”

Eren steps up to the table, and slips off his shoes. He unclasps his hands and places them palm down on the table while spacing his feet out as far apart as they will go with the chains connecting his ankles. 

The officer behind him steps forward and says, “I’m going to pat you down. Do you have any weapons, or sharp objects that could hurt me, on your person?”

Eren shakes his head and croaks a “No.”

He startles as he feels hands start on his shoulders. They slide across his upper back and down his spine. Then under his arms and around his chest. The officer pats over his hips and down the sides of his legs. 

Eren squeaks as the hands move over his waistband and the space between his legs. The officers in the room are silent as Eren’s pat down continues. The guard behind him spares Eren little privacy in fingering across every nook and cranny of Eren’s body, even the soles of his feet and the inside of his mouth. 

The officer behind the table nods and the one behind Eren steps back. He moves around the table and presses a button Eren hadn’t noticed was there before. “Grab your shoes and continue to the next room.”

Eren leans away from the table and reaches down to pick up his shoes. The door at the other end of the table slides open as he approaches it. 

The door opens directly into a big room that reminds Eren of a locker room. There's a line of guards on one side of the room with big bins on wheels behind them. On the other side of the room facing them is a line of inmates. 

The guards shout for the men to line up as Eren scurries over as fast as his shackles allow to the end of the line. One guard walks down the line and un-shacks each inmate while another places a big clear plastic bag in front of them. 

“Remove all articles of clothing and place them into this bag, they will be held for safekeeping until the end of your sentence.” 

Eren had had some idea of what would happen when he got to prison, but he definitely wasn’t prepared for this. Getting dressed in the gym locker room was one thing, but completely naked in the midst of thirty other people was another. 

The dread in Eren’s chest grows as he looks down at the bag in his hands. He hears the shuffling of the guys around him, but he feels like he’s locked inside himself. He can’t breathe. 

A loud bang knocks him out of his head. The red-faced guard who had unshackled Eren hits his baton against a metal column in the middle of the room, “Now!”

Eren hesitantly places the bag on the bench in front of him and shrugs off his jacket. He folds it and places it on the bench, then raises his hands to the hem of his shirt. Not looking around the room, he pulls it off in one swift movement. 

The shirt gets folded and placed on top of his jacket, and Eren starts to unbutton his jeans. He takes a deep breath in and then pulls them down. The button on the waistband scratches against the floor as he scoops them up and folds them on top of his shirt. 

Now down to just his underwear, Eren’s not exactly sure if this counts as ‘all articles of clothing.’ He looks up for some guidance and immediately regrets it. The men in the line are all in various states of undress. The seasoned convicts had immediately fully stripped down, while newbies like him hesitated between each step.

 _Okay_ , he thinks, _I can do this, just pretend you’re in your bathroom, getting ready for a shower_. Eren places his fingers on the waistband of his briefs and slides them down his thighs, ignoring the jeers of the nearby prisoners that seemingly come out of nowhere. 

Eren sets his underwear on top of his pile of neatly folded clothes and places the stack inside the plastic bag before looking back up. The guard calling orders at the front of the room has seemingly lost patience as he walks down the line and shouts at the inmates still clothed. Eren avoids eye contact and looks at the dirty tile floor as the guard passes by him. 

“Alright gents, you all know what’s next, hands up with palms out.” The guard steps down the line and watches as each inmate places their hands out and turns them over. When he gets to the end of the line, Eren can’t help the shaking of his hands as he holds them up. 

The guard walks back to the front of the line and says, “Alright, step in front of the bench, turn around, lift your feet and wiggle your toes.” Eren gulps and turns around, feeling oh so much more exposed with his naked back to the line of prison officers. The red-faced guard walks down the line again.

When he returns to the front of the room, he says a phrase that makes Eren shudder in disbelief, “Bend and spread boys.” Eren looks down the line of inmates, careful to keep his gaze above waist level. The guard starts at the beginning of the line, and Eren watches as the inmate bends over, places both hands on his ass and coughs. 

Eren feels sick as the coughs ring out one after the other. He’s practically shaking by the time the guard is only a few people away. Eren can’t pretend that he’s in his own bathroom anymore. He takes a deep breath as the guard approaches him. He can feel the man directly behind him, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

He doesn't get any warning before the guard gives his back a hard shove and Eren has to catch himself on the bench in front of him. 

“Spread boy.” 

Eren feels his eyes well with tears, but he lifts his hands from the bench and does what the officer says. Eren stands mortified until he hears the man walk away. 

The guard walks back to the front of the room and tells them to turn back around. He retrieves a spray bottle with no label and gestures to another guard who retrieves one of the bins on wheels. A third officer follows the second with his own bin. 

The red-faced guard walks down the line and sprays each inmate’s hair and crotch with a clear solution. The next guard grabs the plastic bag off the bench and tosses it into the bin, and the third guard pulls out various articles of clothing and drops them in front of each inmate.

All three men make their way down the row. Eren flinches when the cold water hits his body. The guard grabs his plastic bag and tosses it in the bin while another dumps a pile of clothes on the bench in front of him.

Eren hastily grabs the mass of orange material and riffles through it. He doesn’t find any underwear, but throws on the gaudy orange pants, followed by a white tee shirt and a scrub like top. 

He trips into the white slip ons as the guards push them towards the door on the opposite site of the room they entered. Each prisoner is reshackled at the door, the metal around Eren’s wrists painfully digging into his skin. 

They step into another hallway and the line moves past an opening in the wall. There are other prisoners in the room behind the opening, shuffling through what looks like bedding and clothes, and stuffing them into washing machines.

Each inmate gets a pile of bedding dropped into their chained hands. A scratchy wool blanket, a pillowcase, and a stained fitted sheet that Eren suspects was once white. After the disappointing sleeping arrangements are made apparent, the line shuffles down and through a pair of double doors. 

The next hallway is lined with cells on either side, full of inmates. The men jeer as the line walks by, and Eren flinches when a man to his right flings himself against the bars. They shout curses and jeers as he walks past. 

He keeps his head down, avoiding any and all eye contact. They reach the end of the cell block and move through the next pair of double doors. This cell block is just as full of jeering inmates as the last one. 

The third block they walk through is slightly less crowded. When the line reaches an empty cell, a prisoner is shoved in by the guard at the front, the door rolling shut and locking behind them. Eren’s turn to be pushed into a cell isn’t much different from the other’s. 

He’s shoved into an eight by eight square with white painted brick walls on three sides. There’s a grimy window placed high on the back wall with bars caging it in from the outside. There are two cots, one on Eren’s left and one on his right. It doesn’t look like anyone else has been in this cell, so Eren at least has that going for him. 

Eren places his pile of bedding on the cot to his right and takes stock of the rest of the room. The worn out bed springs groan as he sits down next to his pile. The bed posts are rusted pretty badly, and the mattress looks like it hasn’t fared any better. The walls are scuffed and there are cracks spider webbing across the ceiling. There’s a dingy steel toilet in one corner of the room, noticeably missing the toilet paper, but thankfully the cell includes its own sink. 

Eren looks back at the front of the cell. The bars are coated in chipping rubber sealant revealing rusting iron bars. He’d definitely have to remember to avoid touching those bars at all costs, who knows what kind of diseases one could catch from those. 

Eren sighs and looks down at the pile of bedding next to him. The guards had told them that these cells would be temporary, and that they’d all be placed into a shared cell with someone else by the end of the week. They’d also told them that dinner was in a little over an hour and a half. 

That news had shocked Eren, because it meant that his intake process had taken over three hours. Either that or the prison served supper nursing home early. Eren’s not sure which one he prefers. 

The sheets are wrinkled and still slightly stained, but at least they smell clean. Eren tucks the fitted sheet around the poor excuse for a mattress and drapes the scratchy wool blanket on top. He slips the cover onto the pillow and fluffs it before setting it down at the end of the cot farthest from the bars. 

Eren supposes he could get in a power nap before dinner, so he crawls onto the bed and lays down on his side with his back to the wall. Eren closes his eyes and tries to pretend he’s back in his cramped but cozy Chicago apartment, with his mom just on the other side of the wall. 

The shouts and clanging of fists against iron bars keeps Eren frozen in fear as he pretends to sleep.

* * *

A shrill whistle shakes Eren out of his poor excuse of a doze. The guards shout for everyone to stand next to their cell doors as they walk down the block. Eren rolls off the bed and steps up to the bars of his cell.

Another whistle sounds and the door in front of Eren rolls to the side. He follows the guard’s orders and steps out into the forming line of inmates. Eren looks to his right and immediately regrets it, the Titan stares back at him from a few people down. Eren notes his gaze is just as harsh and fear inducing in prison clothes as it is in regular clothes. 

He faces forward and shuffles to catch up with the line of prisoners marching forwards. The double doors at the end of the hall open, and the line is led straight until it reaches another pair of doors, this time with a name plate that reads ‘Cafeteria.’ The guard at the front opens the door and the line shuffles through. 

The room isn’t like any prison cafeteria Eren’s seen in the movies. They step into a wide open space with rows of equally spaced, bolted down aluminum tables. Groups of inmates occupy various tables around the room, while a line moves in front of an opening in the far wall. 

The guards point the new arrivals towards the line, and then take a place against the wall with other prison officers. Eren shuffles forward as he takes in more of the room. All of the walls are the exact same color as the rest of the interior of the building except for the glass windows on the far right wall. 

The line curves right from the left side of the room, to the serving station set into the wall on the opposite side of the room from where Eren had entered. The aluminum tables crowd the center of the room, with guards standing watch on the perimeter of the walls. 

Men divide themselves among the tables, and the ones closest to Eren side eye the line of new arrivals. Eren shivers as their gazes sweep over him. They’re all dressed generally the same in the orange scrub pants, shirt, and white slip on shoes. Some of them sport long sleeve undershirts pushed up to their elbows, or the short sleeve undershirt Eren wears. 

“Move it.” Eren lurches forwards as the inmate behind him gives a hard shove. Eren turns back in the direction of the line, the heat rising in his face. He can practically feel the eyes of the other inmates on him, looking at him like he’s something to be devoured alive. 

The line shuffles forward till Eren reaches the shelf with chipped plastic trays. He picks one off the top and slides it along the metal lip of the serving window. As he stops in front of each station, an inmate slops a spoonful of whatever’s in front of them onto the meal tray. 

Eren cringes as what looks like mac n cheese, mashed potatoes, and peas are scooped out and deposited into wells in the tray. At the end of the line, Eren’s faced with another problem. He takes back his earlier statement about the cafeteria. 

This is exactly like the lunchroom at his old highschool. Eren had walked in the first day, taken one look at the various cliques grouped off at different tables, and then walked out to eat on the bleachers by the football fields. He’d never tried to eat in the cafeteria after that. 

Eren awkwardly shuffles around the edge of the room as he eyes the groups of men at the tables. He scans the crowd of tattooed, and frankly _terrifying_ potential seating options and feels his anxiety spike. 

The end of this side of the room comes too soon, and he’s forced to scan the nearby tables once again. In the far corner from where he stands, sits a nearly empty table with only one other occupant at the far end. Eren makes his way along the wall and beelines for the empty seat farthest from the other inmate. 

The man sits with his back to the table, facing the windows that look out onto a courtyard. Eren slinks onto the bench at the far end of the table, looking at the back of the man’s head, watching for a reaction. Either he doesn’t hear Eren, or doesn’t care. 

Eren sighs in relief and looks back down at his tray. The mac n cheese looks like it’s starting to dissolve into the grease and oil that collects on his plate. He wrinkles his nose in disgust, at least the mashed potatoes and peas look kind of okay. 

Eren picks up a spoonful of the peas and brings it up to his mouth, but a harsh slap against his upper back sends the peas flying across his tray and even the table. 

“Hey there.”

Eren looks to his right where a tall, blond man stands with his hand still gripping Eren’s shoulder. 

“Bertolt here tells me you came in with him.” The blonde man gestures behind Eren as he sits in the seat to Eren’s right, and a brunette steps into his line of sight to his left. It’s the same dark haired Titan from before, the one that had come with Eren on the transport. 

Eren swallows heavily and sets his spoon down as Bertolt sits in the seat to his left, “Uh, yeah.”

The man chuckles and finally releases Eren’s aching shoulder, “No need to be nervous man, my name’s Reiner.” He holds out a hand, and Eren’s eyes widen as his long sleeved undershirt shifts, revealing the nine pointed starburst etched into his forearm. 

He looks between Reiner and his tattoo, but the man just keeps holding his hand out and smiling until Eren shakily raises his hand and says, “Eren.”

Reiner shakes his hand enthusiastically, not letting go as he scoots closer, “Listen here Eren, you look like a smart kid. I’m sure you know that prison can be a pretty rough place.”

Eren gulps and nods. 

“Good,” his smile becomes more leering than kind, “now, Bertolt here thinks that we could help each other.” 

“H-help each other?”

“Yeah, you know, we look out for you, you do a couple small favors for us. You know, an eye for an eye, quid pro quo,” he shrugs, “that kind of thing.” Reiner’s grip on Eren’s hand tightens.

“Uh, I’m, I don’t-” Eren stumbles under the intense gazes of the gang members next to him. 

“C’mon Eren. Do this for us and we’ll help you out.” He leans closer into Eren’s space.

“Uhm...”

“It’s not a hard answer kid, a simple yes is fine.” 

“I-” Eren feels like he’s suffocating, and tries to pull his hand out of the man’s increasingly iron grip but Reiner just tightens his hold till Eren’s knuckles start to grind together painfully. He gasps.

BANG. 

Eren frantically looks around and jerks his hand out of Reiner’s grasp as the table jolts with the force of the hit. The other man at the end of the table has one hand still on the aluminum as he leans over into Reiner’s space. 

“ _Lay off dipshit_.” The man growls, keeping his gaze on the Titans. He wears the same orange uniform as the others, but with no undershirt and his oversized sleeves rolled up. His dark brown, almost black hair is parted down the middle, long on the top and neatly shaved close on the sides in an undercut. 

Eren’s gaze sweeps from his head to the shadow of collar bones peeking out of the gaudy orange shirt, and down arms corded with lean muscle. He’s gorgeous. _Oh fuck me_ Eren thinks. _This really isn’t the right time for this_.

Reiner stands from his seat easily having over five inches on Eren’s savior, but the other man doesn’t even flinch. 

“Stay out of this _Ackerman_.”

“Leave the kid alone _Braun_.” 

Reiner crosses his arms in front of him and leans into the shorter man’s space more, “Oh? And why should I?”

“We both know he’s of no use to you.”

Reiner laughs, “On the contrary, I think he could be _very_ useful.” 

Eren shivers under the glance Reiner throws in his direction. He doesn’t like the sound of that at all. 

“ _Back_. _Off_.” The other man steps closer, managing to add to the intensity of his already deadly glare. They attract the attention of more people nearby as guards around the room notice the commotion and take a few steps forward. 

Reiner seems to consider his options, looks around and seemingly backs down, “Fine. You want him? You got him.” 

Eren’s yanked unceremoniously out of his seat by Reiner and shoved at the man in front of him. He stumbles and would most certainly kiss the floor if it weren’t for the strong grip on the collar of his shirt. The man sets Eren back on his feet and shoves him off to the side. 

Reiner smirks and backs away, “We won’t forget about this. I’ll be expecting a few extras in the next shipment.” Reiner condescendingly looks the shorter man up and down, then turns and gestures to Bertolt. Both men weave their way through the tables and back to the far side of the room. 

Eren turns back to the man at his side, watching as he surveys the Titans’ retreat with narrowed eyes. Eren’s not exactly sure what you’re supposed to say to someone who’s just saved you from being forced to join a prison gang. 

He nervously rubs the back of his neck before settling on, “Uh, thanks.”

The man breaks out of his staring competition with Reiner’s back and turns back to his seat in front of the window, “Whatever.” Eren watches as the man slumps back down on the metal bench, elbows back to resting on the aluminum table behind him. 

Eren stands awkwardly next to the table, before deciding to just go for it. Instead of sitting back down in his seat, he decides to sit in the empty seat closest to the occupied one at the head of the table.

Eren sinks down onto the bench and wrings his hands nervously in his lap, his gaze switching from the back of the man’s head and to his hands. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Eren startles and looks up from his hands to see piercing grey eyes staring back at him. He’s frozen for a few beats before dumbly saying, “I’m Eren.”

The man scoffs and looks back to the window, “I don’t care.”

Feeling bolder, Eren says “If you didn’t care then why’d you chase them off?”

“They were annoying me, _you_ were annoying me.”

“I wasn’t even doing anything! I just sat down-”

“Exactly.”

Eren can’t believe the nerve of this guy. He feels the irritation building in his chest. _What was this guy’s problem?_

Eren says exactly that, “What’s your problem?”

The man rolls his eyes, “Listen kid-”

“ _Don’t call me kid_.” Eren’s just as surprised at the growl that comes out of his mouth as it seems the other guy is. 

He looks a little taken aback before his face scrunches back up into a scowl, “Fuck off.” 

Eren stands, ready to retort when the shrill prison whistle cuts him off and he turns his eyes towards the sound. When he looks back at the man, he’s gone. Eren looks around the room and spots him making his way to the double doors leading out of the cafeteria.

Eren hates how the garish uniform actually looks good on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Unephemeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, that thing where you start new fanfic and aren't able to update for over a month because you started it right before your finals. Biochemistry really be like that huh. But, I am officially on break now so I will be able to write more!
> 
> Tw, please be cautious, a character purposefully cuts their arm open in this chapter so be wary of that. it's pretty obvious when it's going to happen, so feel free to skip to the end notes if you're not comfortable with reading that or the idea of medical procedures that include needles.

Levi doesn’t notice the kid is there until he hears one of his targets behind him. He’s been entirely focused on the blue sky outside the big windows of the cafeteria. 

The small strip of sky is visible between the top of the window and the roof of the neighboring block of division VI. Levi still hasn’t figured out the purpose of this window. There’s nothing much to see except for the red brick of the other building and the dusty ground of the makeshift courtyard that formed in the gap between the two buildings. 

So, Levi watches the sky. He watches the clouds drifting by, and every so often, if he’s lucky, a bird will fly past. Entirely free to do as it pleases. Levi can’t believe he envies a bird. They never land in the courtyard, but Levi can’t blame them. He wouldn’t either.

The sound of voices behind him break Levi’s concentration from the window. He recognizes Reiner’s almost immediately, but he doesn’t turn around just yet. 

The table dips slightly when Reiner sits at the opposite end. Levi can only hear bits and pieces of conversation between the clatter and shouts of mealtime in the prison cafeteria. He turns his head slightly to the side in order to hear better. 

Through the din of the surroundings, he catches the words ‘favors’ and ‘quid pro quo.’ _You’ve got to be kidding me_ , Levi thinks. He’s been here long enough to be able to recognize a prison con when he sees it. 

It’s always the same deal, some thugs approach the oblivious newbies and spin their lies. Protection for a few favors, how bad could it be? Bad, really bad. Levi’s seen the unfortunate premature ends of many inexperienced young men in his term here. 

The kid always ends up trying to back out after it’s too late, after it starts to become apparent that the favors aren’t actually favors, almost quite literally painting a bright red target on their back. Talk of suicides and accidents spreads considerably fast in a place without news. 

Levi’s attention turns to the conversation behind him just in time to catch the timid reply from Reiner’s newest target. Huh, this kid is actually not falling for it. Levi, for once, is genuinely surprised. 

He shifts slightly in his seat, trying to see the people behind him, but not alert them to his presence just yet. Levi can just barely make out the side of Reiner’s face, and a mop of brown hair in his peripheral. 

The kid continues to politely decline the older man’s advances, but Levi can see that it’s not working in the slightest. Levi watches as Reneir gets closer and closer to the boy, trying to scare him into submission, but surprisingly he continues to resist. 

Levi looks back around to the guards. _How are they not seeing this_? Levi knows for a fact that at least a few guards and inmates around them know exactly what’s going on. He turns back just in time to see Reiner shift the hand that’s under the table.

_Holy shit, is this guy serious_? Just barely glinting in the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria, is a knife. Levi’s never seen this before, but he’s also never seen someone hold out this long against Reiner and his goons either.

The guards around the area seem oblivious to what’s actually happening at the end of the table. Levi can’t let himself believe that they truly don’t see the knife glinting out in the open. The boy doesn’t seem to see it either, and continues to try and talk himself out of Reiner’s trap. 

The boy gasps as Reiner’s hand above the table tightens its hold, but Levi’s not worried about that hand. He sees the knife move closer to the boy’s stomach, and before he can realize what’s happening, he’s slammed his hands down on the table with a loud bang. 

Reiner and the other occupant’s at the table straighten up at the sound. _Looks like Reiner brought backup_. Levi’s gotta establish himself quickly and act like he meant to stand up if he’s going to get out of this unscathed.

Levi schools his expression into a scowl as he leans into Reiner’s space, “ _Lay off dipshit_.”

Reiner stands up and Levi tries not to flinch back as the man towers over him, “Stay out of this _Ackerman_.”

“Leave the kid alone _Braun_ ,” it’s not Levi’s smartest retort, but it still seems to piss Reiner off. 

The blond man leans even closer, bringing his arms up to cross his chest, “Oh? And why should I?”

Levi’s floundering at this point, “We both know he’s of no use to you.” The truth is on the contrary, however, as Levi and Reiner both know exactly how useful a prison mule is. Reiner says as much. 

“I think he could be _very_ useful.”

Levi doesn’t miss the emphasis in Reiner’s words, and it seems the kid doesn’t either as Levi watches him visibly shiver. _Fuck_ Levi’s getting nowhere with this. Still, he tries again, “ _Back_. _Off_.” 

Levi doesn’t have a lot to use as leverage against Reiner, and they both know it, but as Levi steps forward, he’s conscious of the stares that their confrontation has amassed. Reiner seems to take their audience into account too, because the next thing Levi knows, the kid’s getting yanked out of his seat and tossed at him. 

Levi is just barely able to keep his balance, but manages to haul both the kid and himself upright. He focuses back in on Reiner who’s got a smirk on his face. 

“We won’t forget about this. I’ll be expecting a few extras in the next shipment.”

With that, Reiner throws another look towards Levi before he and his lackey turn and leave. Levi groans inwardly, _Shit, Erwin is gonna be fucking pissed_. Levi’s knocked out of his internal cursing by an awkward shuffle to his left. He turns to see the kid looking back at him. 

“Uh, thanks.”

“Whatever.” Levi turns away and slumps back down on the metal bench facing the window. Levi’s really done it now, this was exactly the kind of thing Erwin had told him not to do. He can hear it now, the inevitable chewing out that he’ll get via Hange at the emergency check in he’s going to have to call later. 

‘What did I tell you about your rash decisions Levi? What did we say about standing out?’ _Whatever_ , Levi thinks, _not gonna help me now_. The damage has already been done, and now Reneir expects something in return for letting go of the kid. 

Levi feels the table behind his back shift, and turns to see that the kid has now sat down in the empty seat next to the head of the table. He scrunches his face in confusion, “What the hell do you think you’re doing.”

The kid’s head snaps up and they stare at each other for a few beats before he says, “I’m Eren.”

Levi scoffs, and turns his head back towards the window, “I don’t care.”

“If you didn’t care, then why’d you chase them off?”

This brat has some fucking nerve talking to a stranger like that. _Jesus christ is he trying to get himself killed_? Levi tries to brush him off for a second time, “They were annoying me, _you_ were annoying me.”

Levi watches as the kid sputters in disbelief, “I wasn’t even doing anything, I just sat down-”

“Exactly.”

“What’s your problem?”

Levi scoffs and rolls his eyes, _you’ve got to be kidding me_ he thinks. “Listen kid-”

“ _Don’t call me kid_.” 

Levi’s surprise doesn’t allow him to stop the involuntary flinch. He narrows his eyes, “Fuck off.”

The kid stands, and looks like he’s about to say something before he’s cut off by the end of dinner whistle. It doesn’t matter, because milliseconds before, Levi sees a flash of obsidian out of the corner of his eye. A black crow sits in the desolate dirt courtyard between the adjoining blocks of Division VI.

Levi’s on his way out of the cafeteria before Eren even turns around.

* * *

One year, eight months, twelve days, nineteen hours, and forty-three seconds since he stepped foot into the Cook County Department of Corrections, Levi finally starts to feel the weight of his assignment bearing down on his shoulders. 

The confrontation in the cafeteria is going to cost him, both in the extra supplies that are going to be needed to be smuggled in, and in his reputation within the gang system in the prison. 

Levi stares at the grimy brick of his cell’s ceiling. He needs to do this soon if he hopes to actually be noticed before the morning. Levi’s only had to call an emergency check in once before, and while today’s catastrophe isn’t nearly as bad as the last time, he still thinks it warrants a ‘this might jeopardize the entire mission’ kind of meeting. 

He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. Ever since the beginning, Levi’s been careful to uphold his stoic, badass, doesn’t give a shit persona. The look on Reiner’s face tonight had just confirmed what Levi had been thinking all along, the man didn’t buy it as much as they needed him too. 

Levi closes his eyes, seeing the mental snapshots of the case files he’d spent months memorizing before the start of his cover. His target was Reiner Braun, supposid leader of the Titan gang within the walls of the Department of Corrections

Who he reports to is currently unknown. The extent of the smuggling system within the prison, unknown. The full list of gang members serving time within the prison, unknown. The inner workings of the actual gang outside of these walls was even more up in the air. 

The hope was for Levi to uncover a point of contact between Reiner and the gang outside of the prison. They were still unsure of whether it was an actual inmate that relayed orders to Reiner, or if, an even worse possibility, it was someone who worked at the prison. 

Levi’s cover story had been perfectly crafted to make him as useful to Reiner’s operation as possible. He was supposed to be serving an eight year sentence for possession with intent to distribute and delivery of a controlled substance. 

Normally, such a sentence might not even need so much jail time, but Levi had been set up to be arrested with just over a half pound of cocaine in his possession during a staged ‘undercover drug bust’.

The precinct had worked for months to find an opening for Levi to slip into the drug selling scene in South Chicago. He’d started out small, dealing on corners to the junkies that couldn’t get anything anywhere else. Then, he’d joined up with a smaller group of sellers, bargaining his entrance with his ‘connections’, to a mexican cartel, see: the police’s store of seized drugs.

Levi had identified the biggest flight risk in his pool of buyers, and the police had approached them with an offer of immunity to help stage a fake drug deal. It was then that Levi had been arrested with the cocaine, taken to prison, and then to court where the judge sentenced him. 

When Levi had arrived at the Department of Corrections, he’d been instructed to lay low, and let a contact from the Titans approach him first. So he had, and it’d taken three whole months before someone finally approached him in the yard. 

A random inmate had propositioned him, much like Reiner had propositioned Eren. Levi hadn’t outright agreed, that’d end with him being the Titan’s bitch, and that was not what they needed to crack this case. Instead, he’d told them about what he could do for them, the contacts he had with the outside, that he could get them almost anything they wanted. 

The rat had run back to whoever was in charge, and the next thing Levi knew, he was being asked to smuggle in a batch of burner phones. The next assignment was more phones and some weed. A few small jobs over the course of a few months led to a meeting at the conclusion of one such delivery just eight months after the start of his sentence.

This one had been odd from the start. The only ask was a carton of Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes. They’d been easy enough to find online and get into the compound, but they were one of the most expensive packs of cigarettes Levi had ever seen. 

He’d stood in the agreed upon spot at the edge of the yard, next to what he would later find out to be a well known blind spot from the many cameras. Levi had waited for nearly twenty minutes before a large, blonde haired young man had stepped out of the shadows and towards him.

Reiner had introduced himself, taken the cigarettes, and lit one up right there in the yard with a contraband lighter. The man had called himself the head organizer of operations, which Levi had already known from his profile, but he’d acted none the wiser. 

It had then been explained to Levi the steps it would take to truly become a part of the organization, Levi honestly had to hold back an eye roll at the time at the mafia-like name. Before leaving their impromptu meeting, Reiner had given him a list of things to do before Levi would officially be a part of their operations within the prison. 

Most of it was pretty easy, some smuggling here, some drugs there, but then it got steadily worse. Those next few months had tested and stretched Levi’s morals in the worst ways possible. 

One of his first tasks had been to find a new source of revenue to exploit within the prison, so he’d gotten the precinct to agree to smuggle in a new drug for the Titan’s to get gen pop hooked on. He’d had to bribe guards to look the other way during some initiations, and the sick sounds of fists against flesh still ring out in some of his nightmares. 

But the very last task Reiner had asked of Levi, had been the one to almost push him completely over the edge. That was the first and only time Levi had called an emergency meeting, well, until now. 

Levi opened his eyes and sat up, the cot creaking under him as he went. He leaned over and fished around underneath the mattress until he found what he was looking for. The dim light from the crappy fluorescents outside his cell glinted off of the razor blade in his hand. 

He flips it over a few times in his palm, eyes tracking the refractions of light bouncing around his fingers, and hesitates. Levi knows he has to get to the infirmary, and this is one of the only ways that would almost guarantee a visit, but still.

It wasn’t the blood or the pain that scared Levi anymore, he’d been shot before after all. No, it was the possibility of pushing it too far, of letting himself give in to what’s become easier and easier to think about as he passes time in this place. 

Levi stands and steps to the sink in the corner of his cell, thankful once again for the lack of a cell mate. He nudges the loose chunk of brick behind the faucet aside and takes out the sterile alcohol wipes. Levi’s secret stash of cleaning supplies is the only good part of this entire room. 

The stash serves multiple purposes. He uses the alcohol wipes to clean the sink and toilet as much as he can and as an extra barrier after washing his hands. But, he also uses them to sterilize as much as possible for when a situation like this one arises.

Levi washes his hands and rips open the foil packet. The metal of the razor is cold as he runs the alcohol swab across it, ensuring to clean all the edges and sides, because an infection at this point would add too many complications. He smooths out the wrapper and stuffs the trash back behind the brick for later. 

Levi takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and presses the point of the razor to the inside of his forearm. He feels the tip sink in, and like ripping off a bandaid, slashes the razor diagonally across the width of his arm. 

“ _Motherfucker_.” Levi can’t hold back the curse that slips out as he picks the razor up off his skin. He rushes back over to his bed, and slips the razor back into place. He’ll have to clean it later. The empty hand goes to cup against the new gash in his arm and Levi stumbles to the front of his cell. 

He glances down at the wound. It’s bleeding significantly heavier than the last time he did this. _Shit_ he thinks, _did he go too deep_? He refrains from removing the hand holding pressure and instead looks out into the space outside his cell. 

A few paces down the hallway, a guard loiters at his station. Levi cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of the badge on the side of his uniform. 

_Shit_

Officer Kitz idly stares at the security monitor in front of him and chokes back a yawn. Ever since his intake, Kitz has been the most detrimental to Levi’s case. The man has targeted him for more random searches and inspections than any other inmate. He’s the most paranoid and psychotic person Levi has ever met. 

It was going to be a struggle to get to the infirmary with any regular guard, but Kitz makes it so much harder. Levi feels as the blood sluggishly drips down his forearm and over his fingers. He’s going to have to do this now if he doesn’t want the situation to get worse. 

Levi sucks in a breath, “Guard!” 

Officer Kitz’s head jerks up from the screen, and he looks around. 

“Over here.” 

The guard gets up from his chair, hand on his batton as he stalks down the row of cells towards Levi. When he sees Levi leaning against the bars his eyes narrow and he scowls. “What do you want?”

“I need medical attention.”

Kitz obviously doesn’t believe him, but steps forward anyways. Levi gestures with the arm covered in blood, hand still applying enough pressure to not bleed out, but loose enough to let out a trickle of blood that will hopefully convince the guard he’ll need stitches. Levi’s almost certain he actually needs a few at this point. 

“What’d you do this time?”

Levi resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I cut myself on the sink handle,” he says.

The guard peers past Levi and towards the sink, where Levi had snapped the handle off of one side of the sink, creating a convincingly sharp point. The guard purses his lips, and looks back at the inmate. 

Levi releases some of the pressure on his arm and watches as Officer Kitz takes notice of the fresh wave of blood dripping down his arm. Levi takes some satisfaction in the way the other man’s face pales at the sight. 

He steps back as Kitz pulls his keys out of his pocket. Levi watches as the man thumbs through till he finds the master key for Levi’s cell block and slips it into the lock on the door of the cell. The door rolls open, and Levi gives the guard time to step back and get a hand back on his baton before he steps out. 

Kitz goes to pull out his cuffs, and Levi can’t help but raise an eyebrow. The guard seems to reassess the situation and as paranoid as he is, seems to come to the same conclusion as Levi that cuffs won’t be necessary. The guard then tries to cover up his blunder by nudging Levi’s side with his baton and saying “Go on then.”

Levi faces forwards and starts to walk slowly down the hall in an effort to show the trigger happy guard behind him that he’s not going to bolt. They reach the end of the block and Kitz gestures for the door guard to buzz them through. 

They step through the set of double doors and Levi swings a left. The infirmary doors appear a few turns later and Levi feels the weight on his shoulders shift. It seems today won’t be his last after all that’s happened. 

Officer Kitz scans his keycard on the pad to the right of the reinforced glass door, and a faint buzzing urges them into the foyer. The nurse at the station presses a button on her desk and the second door rolls open for them to step through. 

Believing his duty to be fulfilled, Officer Kitz nods at the nurse and the few guards stationed around the room, and promptly leaves back through the glass doors. Levi can’t help but feel a little smug at the man’s fragile disposition. The nurse looks Levi up and down before picking up the phone on her desk and typing in numbers. 

Shortly after she hangs up, a door to Levi’s right opens, and out steps a red haired doctor. “I can assist you in here.” Levi nods and steps through into a private examination room. The red light of the camera in the corner let's Levi know that they’re being watched, but he knows for certain that the recording is video only. 

The doctor closes the door and shuffles around as they gather the necessary items to treat Levi’s gash. They load up with sterile gauze and a suture kit and roll a standing tray over to the examination cot Levi had sat on when he walked in.

Levi tries to focus on the buzz of the fluorescent lights and not on the heartbeat in his arm as the doctor snaps on a pair of latex gloves. 

“Do I need to tell Erwin to get you out?” Hange starts. 

“No.” 

“That’s what you said last time, and we both know how that situation turned out.” 

Levi winces as his hand is lifted off of the wound, the skin of his fingers tacky with his own drying blood. 

“It’s different, this time I know what I’m doing.” Levi watches as gloved hands poke around the gash before deciding that yes, Levi is going to need a few stitches. 

Hange raises an eyebrow, “And yet you still felt the need to call an emergency check in.”

Levi barely flinches as the anesthetic is injected into the edges of the cut “I just need your input on how to move forward.” 

Hange sighs, and straightening up, pulls off the gloves and sets them to the side. “So fill me in,” they say.

“You watch the feed from the cafeteria yet?” 

“Not yet, I had a patient. Petra was watching”

“Well-” 

Levi fills Hange in as they put on sterile gloves and clean and drape his arm. He tells them about Reiner and his lackey preying on another innocent kid, and about how said kid tried to refuse their offer. By the time he finishes describing the conversation that had taken place behind him, Hange has started stitching. 

“And how does this warrant a check in?” they say. 

“Well it seems I am going to need a few extra things smuggled in with the usual shipment.”

Hange looks up at him from their little stool and narrows their eyes, “What did you do Levi?”

“I got up and yelled for Reiner to leave the kid alone.”

To their credit, Hange doesn’t miss a stitch as they continue, “And why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

This gets them to stop working again. “So let me get this straight, you hear these guys going after another inmate, which I might add has happened in front of you before, but this time you suddenly decide to step in?”

“I know it doesn’t make any sense, but Reiner had a knife pulled out and it’s like I moved before I was even able to think about it.”

Hange looks back down and continues their stitches in silence for a few seconds before finally asking, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, Reiner made it pretty clear I was going to be adding a few freebies to the next delivery.”

“Shit Levi, we’re pushing the commissioner pretty far with this as it is.”

“The deputy commissioner you mean.”

“What difference does it make?”

“We both know Commissioner Fritz doesn’t do shit.” 

“Jesus christ Levi, you can’t talk about a superior officer like that,” they hiss out between their teeth, and then quieter, “even if it is true.” Hange ties off the last stitch and sets their tools in the tray. “I’m going to have to bring this to Captain Erwin, this is going to set us back even more in our timeline than we already are.”

“I know.”

Hange sighs and starts to dress the new stitches, “I’ll get Petra to send an encrypted report back to Erwin explaining what needs to be done, but you need to make sure that you don’t do anything else to make them wary of you. You’ve come too far and been through too much for this to fall through. You and everyone else involved in this operation.” 

They press on the edges of the bandage and snap off their gloves before standing up. Hange folds together the used gauze and trashes the syringe in silence before turning back to look at Levi, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine Hange, you’ll get word to Erwin, and I’ll just have to show Reiner that this slip up isn’t a big deal and that he can still trust me.” Levi runs his fingers over the edge of the bandage feeling the tingles of pain as the anesthetic wears off.

Hange turns away from the trash where they’ve dumped the used drapes and tools and frowns, “That’s not what I meant.”

Levi sighs and looks up. “I’m fine Hange.”

“It was pretty bad this time Levi.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I did what we agreed to do to call an unplanned check in.”

“The assumption was that you’d drink some salt water and puke or something, not” they pause, “not this.” 

Levi shrugged, “It worked for me last time.”

The drawer Hange was digging in is slammed shut. “Last time you were near catatonic and covered in someone else's blood, of course it would work,” they say. 

Levi slides off the exam table and makes for the door. Hange grabs his uninjured arm before he can reach for the doorknob and pulls him back. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Levi says, glancing at the camera in the corner. 

“I’m worried about you Levi. I know you think you’re mister untouchable and no-feelings allowed, but this is intense stuff. It’s okay to be a little affected, you’ve been in prison for over twenty straight months for a crime you didn’t commit, in order to _maybe_ get information on a gang contact that may or may not exist.”

“I know Hange, and I’m telling you, _I’m fine_.”

“I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me if it becomes too much. Even Erwin blanched at the idea of doing this, and you know how he is.” 

Levi’s expression turns irritated and he pulls his arm out of Hange’s loosened grip, “Yeah, I do know.” He grabs the door handle and pulls it open, silencing whatever statement Hange had started to say behind him. 

The nurse at the front desk looks up and gestures to the new guard that stands next to the glass doors leading back to the cell blocks. _At least it’s not Officer Kitz again_ he thinks. The new guard cuff’s Levi’s hands and leads him back to the cell block. 

He has barely sat down on his cot before the lights throughout the block brighten slightly and then shut off all at once, indicating the start of lights out. 

Levi zeroes in on the heartbeat steadily pulsing in his left arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW Levi cuts his arm pretty bad in order to go to the infirmary where he informs Hange, who is Levi's main handler posing as a doctor within the prison, of what happened with Reiner. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated!


End file.
